The Epic Love Story of a Hunter and an Angel
by Azrael DiAngelo
Summary: The tale of how The Righteous Man, Dean, ended up falling in love with Heaven's most socially awkward angel, Castiel. Set between S5 Ep. 14, "My Bloody Valentine" and S5 Ep. 15, "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid." If you look closely, it's also a bit of an explanation on why Dean wasn't affected by Famine. WARNING: Dean is NOT a reliable narrator. :)
1. Prologue

Prologue

"Dad, can you tell us how you met Papa?" Mary Anael Winchester asked. Dean Winchester looked up from the newspaper he had been skimming for a case in, to look at his now eight year old daughter, and he couldn't stop the smile that came to his face when ever he saw her. Her blonde hair, - which had influenced him to give her his mother's name, - fell past her shoulders. Her eyes were a brilliant blue, the opposite of her older brother's, Bobby John Winchester, who sat next to him, green eyes twinkling with a curiosity that had definitely been inherited by the "Papa" in question, and their Uncle Sammy.

"Nah, we've heard that story a million times. How about the story when…. You realized you loved Papa? We never heard that one." Twelve year old Bobby questioned Dean, now becoming more involved in the conversation. Bobby pushed some hair that had been covering his eyes to the side so he could see his father better as Dean thought of where to start the story. _Man, if that kid doesn't get a haircut soon, he'll end up looking like a girl, or worse - like Uncle Sammy,_ Dean thought with a chuckle.

"You're such a girl," Mary told Bobby, with a smile.

"Am not, jerk." Bobby replied, trying to hide the beginnings of a smile on his face with one of Sam's bitch faces, and failing completely.

"Whatever, bitch."

If Papa were here to hear that, he would've lectured and scolded Dean and the kids until they were practically begging to be smited. Papa had made sure that Dean acted kid-friendly when they decided to have children, but these little things brought back so many memories, that he couldn't possibly bring himself to ruin it with the "child – appropriate" crap.

"So you wanna hear how Papa and I hit it off, huh?" He asked. The children nodded and Dean's smile grew wider. The children sat closer as he began to tell the epic, action- y, love story of a hunter and an angel.

"Well, here's how it really started…" And so began Dean Winchester's trek down Memory Lane and the tale of how The Righteous Man ended up with Heaven's most socially awkward angel, Castiel.


	2. Chapter 1: Hugs, Ass, and Everything Cas

Dean Winchester was a rational person. Was it rational that he punched Cupid in the face? Yes, he thinks so, and it hurt like a **bitch**. But isn't that what love usually feels like?

Nevertheless, the sight before him wasn't something he'd ever expected to deal with.

As the **very** _**naked **_Cupid captured his little brother in a bear hug that lifted him off the ground, (which damn, Dean would've taken an album full of pictures of, if he weren't so fucking creeped out), Dean turned toward Cas, who's weary expression confirmed his knowledge of the situation and likewise begged him not to ask stupid questions.

Dean had to ask anyway.

"Is this a fight?" He asked, hopping from foot to foot, itching for something to kill and not really knowing why. "Are we in a fight?" He eyed Sam across the room, struggling to break free as he was smothered in what Cas would later say, could only be referred to as "love."

"Dammit Cas, are we gonna have to kill it?" The hunter worriedly asked the angel, freaking out a little because he only had Ruby's knife and a gun full of salt rounds if things got nasty. "How the fuck do you kill Cupid anyhow?"

The angel remained unresponsive. His blue eyes were focused intently on Sam, as he watched Cupid practically strangling him in "love," but he wasn't really watching. Cas was lost in thought, as he usually was so frustratingly was, and Dean couldn't help but be unusually jealous of the attention his brother was getting with Cas' gaze upon him. Dean was so used to being the receiver of such common actions from Cas. As quickly as the emotions came, they were stashed back in Dean's mental abyss of things he would never think of again. **Ever.**

Dean later denies having been as hysterical as he sounded when he met the angel of love. In his defense, a couple had become fatally hungry while fucking each other's brain's out, the diaper-less Cupid had showed up for no good reason, and it was hugging Sam **for way too fucking long.**

"Cas, what the fuck is going on?" Dean practically barked in frustration. **No one** touches Sammy, but him.

Dean stands by that, even though it came out a bit weird.

Cas sighed. Dean assumed that if he were more adapted to human emotions and gestures, Cas would've been rolling his eyes right about then.

"This is…Their handshake." Cas replied, watching as Sam seemed to be losing every shred of dignity he had in what he would later refer to as the longest, most uncomfortable, humiliating, event in his life since the month he spent bald because of Dean's supposedly sick sense of humor.

"Well, I don't like it. This looks like an R-rated Hallmark card."

Sam's ordeal was indeed getting worse. (In the presence of children, Dean compares the scene to being mauled by a horny, sweaty, naked, Sumo wrestler with emotional issues). "Guys, I would love some help here!" Sam shouted as he came up for air.

"Love? I love, love!" Cupid shouted excitedly back, tightening his death grip on Sam.

"No one likes it." Cas replied, still watching the slightly pornographic sight before him with a hint of amusement on his face. _Was that a smile?_ Dean wondered. _He should do that more often, _Dean thought. _He looks cute. _Later on, Cas would look back fondly on this and Dean would deny ever having thinking this and would blame it on the presence of Cupid.

"As for your questions," Cas said, interrupting his thoughts, "Cupids do not fight. So even if you were to inflict violence on it, it wouldn't retaliate. But I suggest you refrain yourself from harming the cherub and discussing means of killing it until after we have acquired the information we seek."

"Okay, but I swear to God Cas, if he doesn't get his feathery ass off of Sammy right now -"

It was at this partly finished threat that Cupid finally released Sam from his "greeting." Sam fell to the ground, gasping for air like his life depended on it, (_like a freaking drama queen in his opinion_), and Cupid walked over to the older hunter and the angel with a warm smile on his face that Dean wanted to wipe off with his shotgun.

What followed next consisted of fierce interrogation, (Dean), crying (that was _totally_ Cas' fault), comfort, (again Cas - _he would rather slay a kraken_, and poor Uncle Sammy still flinches when he sees diapers), and hugs, (much to Sam's agony - thank God it was a quick one, 'cause he wasn't sure how long Cas could hold him back). Eventually, they learned that Cupid wasn't slaughtering couples and that it, unfortunately, wasn't the only one of his kind flying around. (This information didn't exactly sink in well with Sammy. He still has nightmares of Cupids and group hugs). But the most surprising info was the one they didn't ask for.

"Why does heaven care if Harry meets Sally?" Dean asked Cupid #142 (_for all he knows_).

"Oh, mostly they don't. You know, certain bloodlines, certain destinies. Oh, like yours." Cupid replied happily, still with that fucking blissful smile on its face, like talking about their love lives was a fucking privilege.

"What?" He was so freaking **sick** of heaven's orders. Screw destiny. Fate could kiss his ass.

"Castiel, you haven't told him yet? I shot you as soon as you pulled him out of hell!" The cupid looked at Cas with a mixed look of shock and horror._ What the heck was going on?_

"What?" Dean repeated. (Later on Sam would say that he said, "What?" so many times, that he sounded like Baby's broken radio. Dean would also beat him up for this later.)

Now he was confused. Dean looked at Cas, who had grown paler than Death, (and Death, if you've gotten as close to him as Dean's gotten, is almost freaking see-through). Cas' skin shone with a light sweat, (which Dean later realized was a bit **unusual **for an angel), and his ears were red with a blush that his currently pale cheeks lacked. Cas looked- _no way_- afraid. Castiel, the freaking angel of the Lord, the guy who pulled him out of the pit and rebelled against those dicks up in heaven, was **shaking** in fear. (Cas would later deny this. In his defense, Famine was affecting him and besides having a hunger for red meat, he also had a hunger for warmth. So he was cold. _Cas has never been the best liar._) Dean looked at the cupid in awe, wondering what about the cherub could make his angel so afraid. _Wait a damn second,_ Dean thought. _**His**__angel? Since when was Cas __**his **__angel? He needed to have a little chat with his brain._

Cas glanced between him and Sam, glaring at the cupid. Dean would later question him on why he hadn't flown away at that moment. (Cas had some girly answer, so Dean's not going to repeat it).

The cupid became a blubbering mess. "Oh, you didn't- Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. This wasn't supposed to-"

"No." Castiel muttered, turning away. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

_Not yet_. The unspoken words hung in the air between them as defeated blue eyes gazed into confused green, begging for forgiveness, (for what, Dean didn't know), and Cas flew away.

The cupid looked embarrassed. It served the son of a bitch right.

"Look," He barked at it, "I don't know what the hell you did to Cas, but you better fucking pray to Daddy that either you or I can fix it, or I will gank your ass faster than you can say Jesus fucking Christ. Got that?"

"Yes, I know!" The cupid nodded with seemingly terrified enthusiasm. "Believe me," and at this, a smug smile crossed its face, "I'm already fixing this. I don't usually get involved, but-"

Of course, Dean didn't let the cupid finish. As fist met face, the cupid flew away at his rudeness and he and Sam walked back to the Impala, where Dean sat fuming. He didn't know what the fuck just happened, Cas was MIA, and Sam had some dopey grin on his face, like he knew something Dean didn't, as he sat next to him in the passenger seat.

Sam would later ask what the hell was wrong with him and Dean would reply, and he quotes, "Stupid people that do stupid things get punched in the face, Samantha." Sam would roll his eyes and wonder for years to come, why Dean's face wasn't permanently dented from all the punches that he deserved.


	3. Chapter 2: Oblivious

"Cas, get your feathery ass down here!" Dean shouted at the peeling paint of the motel ceiling, for what felt like the millionth time. No response, no wings flapping, -nothing. Dean had seen no sign of the angel since the _incident_ the day before. _Dammit Cas_, Dean thought, _what did I screw up now? I love -_

**_Beer._**_ He loves _**_beer_**_, and he's going to get some _**_now_**_. He remembers driving by a nice looking bar when coming into the town. Better tell Sammy where I'm going, _Dean thought quickly, as he grabbed his phone and keys, and headed out of the motel.

"- So, uh, this guy was not marked by Cupid, but his death is definitely suspicious." Sam informed him, as he parked his car outside the bar.

"Yeah, well, I just went through the police blotter, and counting him, that's eight suicides since Wednesday and 19 0Ds. - That's way out of the seasonal batting average." Dean replied, smiling as he walked by two blondes who couldn't keep their hands off of each other._ Kinky, _he thought,_ probably high as the clouds, but kinky. They probably don't swing my way though._

"Dean!" Sam shouted through the phone, bringing him out of his lustful thoughts. "Are you even listening?"

"Hm?" Dean replied intelligently.

Sam sighed. "I said, if there's a pattern here, it ain't just love. It's a hell of a lot bigger than we thought."

Dean's eyes scanned his surroundings._ Man, was it him, or did everyone look drunken beyond oblivion? Sheesh, and they're eating like they haven't seen food in years. Pigs._

"Huh? Yeah sure, all right. Great. See you in 30." Dean said quickly and hung up as he spotted a sexy bartender. He sat down next to some passed out old drunk and waited for her to walk over._ This guy looks familiar, _Dean thought, looking over at the man.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked, bringing Dean's attention back to her.

He looked her over. She had shoulder-length curly black hair, pale skin except for a nice pink blush on her cheeks, nice curves, and red lips. But her most striking, and actually most unnerving feature, were her eyes. He found himself staring into a pair of strikingly bright blue eyes as the bartender waited for him to order.

_They're too bright, _Dean thought_. Cas' are a bit darker and much more attractive than this chick's… I miss him. Wait, what? What the fuck is going on? He does not miss Cas. Not after yesterday, when he left to go to God knows where without explaining a damn thing or at least leaving with a fucking good-bye. But then again, something was wrong with Cas. That cupid did something to him- to both of them. He hopes Cas is okay. Dammit! When did he become such a girl?_

"Um…uh, I think I'll take some water," Dean finally replied, having lost his appetite for beer._ What the fuck is wrong with me? D_ean couldn't remember the last time he drank something that wasn't alcohol. _(Sam would later agree). Next thing you know, I'll start eating rabbit food like Sammy. (Actually, Dean would try eating a salad later on. Sam almost died of a heart attack when this happened)._

As he waited for her to get some water, Dean turned to look at the old drunk._ Why does he look so familiar? _He thought as he tilted the man's head and checked his pulse. _Dammit the coroner's dead! He didn't even recognize him - he looked like he drank until he saw stars, ran out of alcohol to drink, and then decided to find a gallon of bleach to guzzle down instead. _As the realization hit him, Dean began to check the pulse of the other bodies strewn across the bar, hoping that they were just passed out, and finding every one cold, drunk, fucked up beyond up beyond all recognition, and lifeless_. Shit! Shit! Shit! _Dean thought.A wave of nausea hit him as he suddenly became sick at the sight of alcohol, couples ignorantly making out in a room full of the deceased, and the smell of sex in the air._ Everyone's OD'd! What the fuck is going on? I better call Sammy._

It was as Dean pulled out his phone and began to leave the bar that the bartender came back, and with something completely different than the water he had ordered previously. "Hey, mister!" She shouted from behind him. Both her hands gripped a Winchester rifle, _(which he still can't recall the model of because he was too busy laughing at the irony), _and pointed them at his face. Dean stood there long enough to think, again,_ what the fuck is going on?_


	4. Chapter 3: Something's Gotta Give

Dean knocked over the table beside him and dove down behind it before the crazy chick started to shoot. And boy, did she _shoot_. After at least two rounds of shooting and reloading, Dean wasn't even sure she was really even _trying_ to kill him. She seemed to have good aim, so if she wanted him dead or at least injured, he would've been by now. Dean shook his head. _These are the thoughts that get you killed, man,_ he thought as he checked his inventory under the deafening fire of bullets astray.

Dean had only come with a bottle of holy water and Ruby's knife hidden in his jacket, which would work fine against a demon, but would take a bit more strategy to halt a creature of the somewhat natural. It was almost kind of sad that he was aware about something that most people were blissfully ignorant of, than his own species. _Demons I get, but people are crazy!_ Sometimes it scared him - well, not **scared**_, alarmed _maybe, - how true that statement was. He could plan a demon's next move, find a hexbag in under three minutes, and kick an angel's ass back to where it came from before it could say, "Amen!", but he probably couldn't tell you what the average human ate for breakfast, ( _not like he ate an appropriate one, according to Salad Man Sam_), or what people liked to do during the summer. _Well, it's not like he needed to know, anyway. He wasn't a freaking __**psychiatrist **__or anything. _Dean came out of his thoughts to realize that the bullets had stopped showering over him.

Dean took a quick moment to look around the place. The windows were busted, the shot glasses were beyond repair, and it seemed that the woman had aimed at everything but him. _Which is probably what she wants you to think,_ Dean thought. When it sounded as if her violent outburst was over, Dean slowly stood up from behind the table, suspicious at the sudden halt in gunfire. He began to walk back to the counter, on full hunter alert as he held his knife up, his fingers gripping the hilt of it so tightly his knuckles were white. His eyes flicked down for a moment as his foot stepped on something solid beneath him. He bent down to pick it up, knife raised in his hand, and eyes focused on the counter, awaiting any sudden movements.

_Salt rounds. Why was she firing salt rounds?_ Dean thought as he inspected the residue from the stray bullet that he now realized wouldn't have fatally wounded him. Dean looked over the counter and cringed at the gruesome sight before him. It seemed that although she had fired salt rounds all around the bar, the bartender had saved the real bullet for herself. _What the fuck was going on?_ Dean suddenly felt sick holding Ruby's knife, and put it in his back pocket. Then, like the self loathing bastard he was, he realized that during the whole time he was at the bar he had never even bothered to ask for her name or even look at her name tag. He looked closer at the still very alive looking body. Her name was Cassandra. _Cas_. He thought immediately, for what he would later say was for no apparent reason. _That's it. He was going to leave, call Sammy, figure out what the __**fuck **__was going on, and get Cas down here even if he had to go up to the pearly white gates and drag him out by the feathers. _

Dean left the bar pondering the fact that any normal person would've called the cops if they encountered a room full of dead people. He let out a humorless chuckle when a thought crossed his mind - that no one had the criminal record or overall life experiences that he had. If they did, they were mental patients locked up in some loony bin for knowing more than the average bear. Sometimes Dean Winchester wanted to be normal. But _**only**__ sometimes._


	5. Chapter 4: Idiots

"That son of a bitch! I'll kill him!" Dean ranted._ Nobody, __**especially**__ demons, are allowed to mess with my little brother. _Dean thought, sharpening his knives a little faster as he sat on the motel bed. "I'll rip his lungs out!"

"Dean, it's gone and it didn't hurt me. I'm fine."

"You okay?" _Sometimes he felt like Batman- he's lost so much family._

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be all right."

"What the hell does a demon got to do with this, anyway?"

"Believe me, I got no idea."

Dean looked around their motel room as he locked the door. "Where did you get that briefcase?" He asked, suspiciously eyeing it on the table across from him.

"The demon was carrying it."

"Well, let's crack her open. What's the worse that can happen, right?

Dean opened the briefcase and a bright light escaped. Sam let out a girly shriek and ducked for cover. The small glowing orb zoomed over his head and bounced off the walls. Finally, it dissolved when it hit the ceiling.

"What the hell was that?" Dean shouted.

"It was a human soul." Cas said, suddenly appearing next to Sam with a burger in his hands. (If asked later on, Dean will gladly tell you that he did not jump when he did that.)

"It's starting to make sense." Cas said, chewing on his burger.

"What about this makes sense?" Sam asked, looking at Dean for knowledge. Dean shrugged.

"Where the hell were you? I was fucking calling you y'know!" Dean glared at the angel, anger replacing shock.

"Yes, I was aware." Cas replied, not looking him in the eyes._ I miss those baby blues, _Dean thought.

"So what, you ignored me?" Dean shouted instead.

"I had more urgent matters to attend to."

"Fine, whatever." There were more important things going down now, anyway. Dean stared at Cas' fidgeting palms.

"Since when did you start eating?" He asked pointing at the fattening food in the angel's hand. _White Castle? I hope whatever's making Cas eat, won't make him shit too._

"Exactly. My hunger is a clue, actually."

"For what?" Dean and Sam asked in unison.

Thus began - finally- the angel's explanation of what the flying fuck was going on. Or at least, the censored version anyway. Cas was holding something back. Okay, he understood - it was Famine making all these people cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. It explained the valentines they had found - they were hungry for love. The bartender - Cassandra- must have had a hunger to kill something supernatural. If it were just a hunger for killing, he would've been shot. The salt rounds suggested that she was a hunter. But what about her suicide?_ A hunger for it to end. _He could relate.He wasn't suicidal, but he admits that he's thought about it. _But people need protecting, so as long as I can, I'm going to stay kicking to do what I do best._

He didn't explain what would happen to him and Sam, though._ What wasn't he telling him? Why couldn't Cas look him in the eye? Doesn't he trust me? _He trusted Cas with his life. _Shoudn't he too, after all the shit they'd been through together? Maybe this is just a one sided thing, whatever this thing was, _Dean thought.

"Sammy, we'll be right back. Cas and I need to talk." Dean said, opening the door and pushing the angel outside. He checked to make sure the door was locked before he turned to the confused celestial being before him.

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"There's something you're not telling me."

"What makes you assume this?"

"Well for starters, you're not looking me in the eye. I know you. As creepy as it is, you seem to love having staring contests with me."

Dean paused to see if Cas would respond. When he didn't, he continued.

"Two- you're eating, and last time I checked, angels don't eat. So the first question I'm gonna ask is - is Famine doing this to you?"

Cas gave a small, barely noticeable nod, but Dean was good at picking up little things like that. He's known this guy for a while.

"That's what I thought. But it's not just you, is it?"

Cas tilted his head in that adorable way that he did when the angel was confused. _Holy fuck! Did he just call Cas adorable?!_ Dean sighed.

"I mean, what's going to happen to Sam? Is he going to pig out on a salad or finally get laid for once in his life?" Dean asked, attempting for a joke and having it fall flat upon Cas' expressionless face. Cas' eyes were now staring intently at the ground, and Dean stopped to think. _No fucking way._

"That's what you were hiding, weren't you?" He growled, fury pumping through his veins.

"No, Dean I-" Cas started to say.

"You didn't want me to know about how Sammy would handle it, did you? Am I right? Why? Is it beca — " _Fuck no._

"It's the demon blood, isn't it?" Dean sighed. _He couldn't fucking take this anymore._ "Sam's going to have a relapse and you didn't want me to know? Why? So I could focus on stopping the end of times? So I wouldn't get distracted?" Dean stepped closer, fists clenching.

For the first time that day, blue eyes met green. The blue eyes turned darker with worry as Castiel began to speak.

"Dean, please don't come any closer. I cannot be held responsible for the results of your proximity." Cas said, backing up against the wall behind him.

"Is that a threat?" He said, stepping closer just to piss him off.

"No. It's a warning."

"Since when do you care about personal space, huh? Since when do you care about anything?"

"That's not true."

"Then what is, Cas? Jesus fuck!" Dean shouted, ignoring Cas' cringe at his words. _You'd think he'd be used to it by now._ "There's something wrong here. There's something wrong with me. I need answers, man!"

"Well, slowly but surely, everyone in this town is falling prey to Famine, but so far, you seem unaffected. Where is your hunger, Dean?"

"That's the problem, dammit! When I want to drink, eat, have sex, start a fight - I go do it!"

"So, you're just well adjusted?"

"God, no. I'm just well fed. But lately, all of it makes me sick. And it all started with that whole mess with Cupid!"

Cas got noticeably paler at hearing this, so Dean decided to press the issue.

"Cas, be honest. Did you do something to me? 'Cause I swear to God, Cas I'll-"

Dean stopped talking when Cas' chapped lips met his. The fact that Cas was kissing him didn't register in his brain until he realized he was kissing back._ And, holy flying fuck. Who knew Cas could do __**that **__with his tongue? _The kiss lasted for what felt like hours and the insane part of Dean's mind wanted to stay like that forever. The only logical reason that it ended was because Dean remembered that he needed to breathe.

When Cas pulled away, gaze never leaving his, looking like he was undressing him with his eyes, Dean began to speak, only to have Cas push up against the wall behind him and cover his mouth with his unnaturally clean and polished hands.

"Listen to me, Dean Winchester. I love you, even though you are the most frustrating and infuriating human I have ever met. It may not be the answer you desire, but it is the answer you are receiving, so listen well. The incident with the cherub was merely that - an incident. He had revealed that I was destined to love you, and since I was not expecting it, I fled. I didn't answer your prayers not only because I was acting cowardly but because I was speaking with the cherub in question, as to why he would do such a thing in the first place. He revealed to me that not only was I destined to love you, but you were likewise destined to love me in return. So don't you ever dare accuse me of harming you in any way."

Dean stood in shock as the realization of what the angel had just said sank in._ So that's why I-and he-_Dean shook his head._ This wasn't right. _Dean removed Cas' hand from his mouth and the angel let him.

" This must be some kind of mistake, then." The words left his lips and he immediately regretted them. Cas stepped away from him quickly and looked as if he had been slapped with a brick.

"C'mon Cas. It's just Famine talking, y'know?" Dean said, pointing at the bag of burgers Cas had thrown on the ground. Dean tried for a comforting smile and failed miserably in what could only be described as cringe worthy.

"Yes, I see. Take care of Sam, Dean. Famine might affect him soon." Cas replied, looking expressionless but still hiding a rabid sense of love in his eyes.

"Yeah." Dean _brilliantly_ replied.

"Oh and Dean?" Cas said quietly.

"Yeah, Cas?"_ Oh you added his name this time, Dean. That's just fucking great. Bonus points for creativity._

_"_I'm an angel, I can stop whenever I want."

"Sure." _Dude, just the fuck up, _Dean thought, scolding himself again.

With a nod, the angel disappeared, and Dean Winchester, the righteous man, felt like a self righteous bastard._ Crap._


	6. Chapter 5: Toxic

"So what, this whole town is just gonna eat, drink, and screw itself to death?" Sam asked, wiping his sweaty face with a cold washcloth by sink. _He really isn't looking too well_, Dean thought.

"Well, we're going to stop it. War got his mojo from this ring," Dean told him, holding up the Horseman's bloody ring. "And after we cut it off, he just tucked tail and ran. And everybody that was affected, it was like they woke up out of a dream. You think Famine's got a class ring, too?"

"Probably." Was Sam's weak reply from the bathroom.

"Well, okay," Dean said, still trying to act as if everything were okay even though he could tell that shit was going to hit the fan any second now. "L—let's track him down and get to chopping," Dean encouraged, with a wide, fake, smile plastered across his face as he grabbed his duffel bag. _He just needed this shit to be over._

"Dean… I, um… I can't. I can't go," Sam muttered, breathing heavily as he continued his impossible efforts to cool off his face and neck. _He looks like he just ran a fucking marathon. _Sam looked wearily into his eyes, paler skin than usual soaked with glistening sweat that wouldn't stop flowing.

"What do you mean?" He already knew what this was leading to, but Dean was hoping for something - _anything -_- to prove him wrong.

"I think it got to me, Dean. I think I'm hungry for it." Sam broke eye contact to suddenly inspect the dirty tiles of the bathroom floor instead.

Dean swallowed the growing lump in his throat and cast his gaze to anything in the room but his younger sibling. He continued to play dumb as he asked, "Hungry for what?"

"You know," Sam whispered. Dean's mouth turned dry.

"Demon blood?" He managed to squeak after a long, tension filled silence had settled over the Winchesters. Sam - _why was it always Sammy?_ - shamefully hung his head.

"Cas!" He hollered at the plaster, putting aside the previous events to be discussed later.

As the minutes ticked by, Dean came to realize that the angel wasn't keen to forgive and forget just yet. _You've got to be kidding me,_ he thought, his heart dropping in his chest and a sense of hopelessness settling over him. _Cas, you're such a child._

"Cas, please." Dean tried again, halting his frantic pacing across the small motel room as Sam watched dejectedly on the floor of the bathroom, shivering as the chills of withdrawal surged through him.

"Cas." Dean continued, "You gotta get him outta here, man. You got to beam him to, like, Montana. Anywhere but **here.**"

Dean searched the room, five senses on full alert as he waited for the celestial being to appear. "Please," he added, as it became apparent the comatose seraph hadn't revealed himself.

"What the fuck…" Dean said in awe, as a bag of burgers appeared on the next to him. Sam's eyes widened as he sat in the corner, legs crossed in front of him, hyperventilating at what was only the beginning of the worst yet to come. Had it been any other time, Dean would've started eating the fast food, but in this case, he grabbed the bag quick and apprehensively. When he was sure nothing out of the ordinary - _or at least crazier than the shit they went through on a regular basis_- was going to occur, he began to read the writing sloppily scrawled on the side out loud to his brother:

Dean

It won't work. He's already infected. The hunger is just going to travel with him. Stay safe.

Castiel

"Dammit Cas!" Dean muttered. He looked at Sam. "Now what do we do?"

"You go cut that bastard's finger off." Sam struggled to say.

"Fuck, Sam, I don't even know where -" _Wait a sec._ Dean stopped to look at the other side of the greasy bag in his hands. _Biggerson's Restaurant._ "I may not be able to find him myself, especially since we have no leads, but if anyone can find Famine, Cas can and -"

Sam let out a sob, interrupting Dean's talk of strategy. _His self control is killing him._ The younger Winchester lay on the floor in fetal position in soiled clothes drenched in sweat.

"Sammy, I know this is a stupid question, but are you okay?" He was hoping Sam was just being prissy and exaggerating, even if it was just a little bit.

"Dean," Sam whispered with urgency. With that one syllable, he knew everything was not okay.

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean sat Sam up against the wall as a wave of nausea hit the younger hunter. It reminded Dean of when Sammy had caught a stomach bug when they were younger and he had to take care of him because Dad left to follow a lead (which would later be proven false) on Yellow Eyes. He knelt by his fallen brother, cursing and praying simultaneously every deity he could think of.

"There's demon blood on that bag."

"What?" Dean shrieked, pouncing upon the paper bag and examining its contents. "I thought it was ketchup. How are you so sure?"

"I can smell it, Dean. Just please, get that away from me."

"Oh. Right," Dean said, regretfully throwing the burgers in the wastebasket near the door.

"I think Cas is in trouble." Sam drowsily mumbled. "You better go save him, Prince Charming."

"Yeah, I will. And hey! I'm not Cas' Prince Charming!"

"So are you saying you're the princess in distress?"

"You heard what happened outside didn't you?" Dean quietly asked. _Sammy's a nosy bastard. Sheesh, did he have his ear on the freaking door?_

"Yeah, the whole neighborhood could hear you. And I know you're going to tell him you're sorry 'cause you ain't fooling anyone, jerk," Sam answered, a weak smile turning his lips upward for a fraction of a second.

When he didn't respond, Sam sighed and continued. "Dean I know this is a sensitive topic -"

"Look, I'm not gonna talk about this. Not now or ever. What I am gonna do- I'm gonna go gank a Horseman," Dean rudely snapped back. He softened when Sam failed at hiding a wince. _I'm sorry._

"And find Cas," He continued. "Bitch," He added with a not so forceful smile.

"But, Dean… before you go, you better… you better lock me down - but good." Sam quietly told him.

"Right." Dean said sadly, and he immediately got to work on cuffing his little brother to the pipe of the bathroom sink of some ratty old motel room that they often spent their sad excuse of a life in, because his Sammy had a demon blood addiction, which was now amplified because a Horseman of the apocalypse he had started, was in town. He then proceeded with the lockdown by locking the bathroom door and shoving a dresser in front of it. What was left of his soul sunk farther in on itself as Dean Winchester the Righteous Man surfaced and went through the motions of protecting those who loved him for all the wrong reasons and saving a world that wasn't aware that it needed to be saved. He wasn't even sure if the emotion that drove his actions was love - he'd never fully experienced it- but some old philosophical dude once said that in order to love others, you first have to love yourself. And there was no one who hated, loathed, and completely despised Dean Winchester more than himself.


	7. Chapter 6: Crazy in Love

It was surprisingly easy to find the hungry Horseman of the Apocalypse. All you had to do was follow the trail of rabid or dead victims of hunger. Well, Dean was a special case. He was led to Famine by a personal demonic escort as soon as he came within a mile radius of Biggerson's Restaurant.

"You guys gonna roll out the red carpet too?" He asked the demon beside him with a smirk, when the car he had voluntarily let himself be forced into, stopped in front of the eating establishment.

The only acknowledgement of his comment that Dean received from the demon was a snort and a harder grip on his left arm as they partially dragged him to the door.

He braced himself for the worse when they walked in, but none of the mental images he could conjure could've prepared him for this. Similar to the bar he had been in earlier, dead drunks littered the floor, eyes bloodshot, jaws slacked open and cold, lifeless hands still gripping shot glasses. He caught a glimpse of the kitchen as he stepped over a body, and he dearly wished he hadn't. Dean would forever have the image of several workers' heads and hands sizzling in the deep fryer carved in his mind. (Though it wouldn't hinder his ability to order and eat fast food later on).

So when Dean finally walked into the room containing Famine, he thought he'd seen the worst of it. But apparently either God's a douche, or bad luck just runs in the Winchester family, because his angel was already there. Cas was chained to the floor and stuck in a ring of holy fire next to Famine. _And yes, he had said his angel._

"Cas!" he shouted, starting to struggle out of the demons' grip.

The angel in question looked up at the sound of his name. Fear flooded his eyes and he violently shook his head, backing to the edge of the flaming circle surrounding him.

"What did you do to him?" Dean growled with defiance in his eyes, turning his attention to the ancient being before him.

"Besides making him rabid for what he desires most? Nothing," Famine told him, his eyes and twisted smile projecting an essence of superiority that the rest of his fragile appearance lacked.

_Okay, maybe letting the hell bitches get the drop on me wasn't my brightest idea, but how else was I supposed to find this dude before Sammy cracked?_ (Later on, Cas would suggest several ways that he could've found the horseman, including but not limited to: questioning survivors, asking the other horseman _- that was a really bad one-_ and oh yeah, tracking him down by the victims. Which again, in Dean's defense, would've taken forever. But he doesn't like to argue with Cas too much, though).

"The funny thing is, I'm not even the one who locked him down like this. That was all him, Mr. Winchester. I didn't even influence him to do it."

As Famine spoke, Cas tugged frantically on his chains, growing more frustrated by the second. The flames circling him illuminated the usually blank features of his face, showing a desperate celestial being that would do anything to get what it wanted.

"You see, Castiel has been trying to keep himself under control," Famine said, stopping to chuckle and then continuing, "He thought that if he stuffed himself with that vial substance you humans call food, he'd be able to quench what he really hungers for. As you can see…" Famine said, gesturing toward Cas _- his Cas._

"It didn't work," Dean said, finishing the sentence for him _because he really didn't need this sick son of a bitch giving him a fucking play by play. Dammit Cas, you don't make anything easy, do you?_

"No," the old man confirmed with a sly smile, "Do you know what this angel desires most, Dean?"

The hunter clamped his mouth tightly shut in a stubborn refusal to give the withering, old creature in front of him an answer. But it seemed he didn't need to.

"Dean," Cas groaned from his corner of the room. He seemed a little more in control now even though he was in the presence of a Horseman. His eyes were closed and he was taking deep breaths even though angels don't need to breathe - but at least he had ceased his attempts of breaking out of the cuffs that locked him onto the floor.

"You shouldn't have to come," he breathed out. "The longer you are here, the chance that I may hurt you increases."

"No," Dean said with a sad smile forming on his lips, "You won't hurt me. I - I trust you, Cas."

"I can't guarantee that what you say will be correct in the future, Dean," Cas grunted and opened his eyes to look at anywhere in the room but at the hunter. "Possibly the near future."

_Okay, so he could kill the bastards that were holding him- easy. But he couldn't cut Famine's finger off all on his own…_ It was at this moment that Dean Winchester came up with the craziest plan he'd ever thought of pursuing.

"This whole situation is downright comical, y'know," Famine said, interrupting Dean's strategic thoughts. "Did you notice it? Have you wondered why it is? How you could even walk in my presence?"

"Well, I like to think that I haven't gone off the deep end because of my strength of character," Dean replied with a cheeky smile.

"I disagree," Famine told him. The Horseman came closer and Dean squirmed as the old man laid his wrinkly hands on his chest. "Yes. I see. That's one deep, dark nothing you got there, Dean. You can't fill it, can you? Not with food or drink. Not even with sex."

"You're so full of crap," Dean replied, but it was too late, he'd already started thinking. _Wait a sec. He might be right. .. the beer, the burgers, the whole fucking bar…_

"Oh, you can smirk and joke and lie to your brother, lie to yourself, but not me! I can see inside you, Dean. I can see how broken you are, how defeated. You can't win, and you know it. But you just keep fighting,' Famine said, seeming slightly annoyed, "Just keep going through the motions. You're not hungry, Dean," Famine continued, with a toothy grin, "'Cause inside you're already dead." Famine paused to let the words sink in, and then continued on with his stupid monologue.

"Which is what makes this so hilarious! This stupid angel is rabid with love for a soulless man! You aren't capable of love anymore, Dean."

Dean thought it over some more. _The bar, the couples making out and fucking each other's brains out, the bartender…Wait. The bartender. Cassandra. Cas._

"That fucking cupid," Dean muttered. _It all makes fucking sense now._

"Excuse me?" Famine asked, as Dean continued on with his lame excuse of a plan.

"Cas!" Dean shouted. The angel looked into his eyes urging him to stop, but he couldn't. "Look man, you were right, okay? I am, uh… destined to, uh… like you back, okay?"

"And you," Dean said, turning to the Horseman. "You're wrong, you stupid son of a bitch. I may be seriously fucked up, but if I weren't capable of, uh…um…'

"See! You can't even say it!" Famine croaked triumphantly from his chair. "Now as heart wrenchingly pathetic as this is, I want to test out a theory. What happens when the thing you're pining for disappears?" Famine flashed Cas a smile and then turned toward his demon henchmen.

"Finish him."

Now came the part of his plan Dean had been dreading. The demons let go of his arms and telekinetically threw him against the wall, which suggested two things: One, they were playing with him and didn't want to kill him immediately. Two, he couldn't move, which was not part of his plan. Dean managed to turn his head to see Cas. Who was again struggling to break free.

"Dean!" Cas shouted, as he helplessly tugged at his chains and unknowingly tugged at Dean's heart.

"Cas," Dean said, rules against chick flick moments put aside as he spoke. "What I was trying to say, before that bastard rudely interrupted me, was that if I weren't capable of love, that cupid wouldn't have shot me with his stupid arrow."

Cas' eyes widened until he looked like a deer in headlights. _A good looking deer though_, Dean thought as he continued to ramble through his confession.

"Besides the fact that my soul is fucked up beyond all recognition, I think you're the main reason why I haven't gone nuts yet, Cas. I like you, I really do. I need you and well, I'm not making any promises, but uh… I think y'know, after a little while… I could, uh…" Dean sucked in a much needed breath to calm his nerves. _When did he become such a girl? _He looked the angel dead in the eye, "I could love you, Cas."

At this, Cas' self control and mentality flew south for the winter. Castile growled and his longing gaze turned into lethal lust as he began to sever his chains. The angel's wrists turned red as he began the removal of the burning Enochian cuffs in a rage that made mania look stable and well balanced in comparison.

A sudden slice from a knife to his shoulder brought Dean's attention back to the demons at hand. They were surrounding him now, and he regrets not having planned what to do if he ended up pinned to a wall, incapable of moving. He tried desperately to will his arms to move to his pocket, which held Ruby's knife and some holy water - but found that he could barely lift a finger. Dean growled in frustration. _I hope Cas isn't crazy enough to walk through holy fire just to get to me._ A part of him was terrified about what Cas _wouldn't _do to get to him and what he _would _do once he got there.

"Let them go," Sam's voice commanded as he entered the restaurant. His lips and chin were covered in what was obviously blood and his hand was raised, ready to use his demonic abilities as he walked toward Famine.

"Sammy, no!" Dean shouted as the demons sliced away at his body, wanted to stretch his death as his shirt became stained with his warm blood. He listened in horror as the horseman offered his little brother a late night demon snack.

As Sam refused, the building shook as Cas brought everyone's attention to him as he telekinetically burst the plumbing, causing water to stream through pipes and spill on the floor- extinguishing the ring of fire around him in the process. He flew to where Dean was, smiting the demons within seconds. Cas pulled Dean toward him and into a passionate kiss that Dean didn't know he was capable of. His teeth painfully gnashed against his and bit down hard on his lip, drawing blood. His tongue was stuffed in his mouth, almost making him choke. He gripped Dean's shirt tightly, completely oblivious to the fact that he was currently bleeding to death.

"Cas stop, please, we need to-" Dean managed to say, as he broke the kiss for a second to breathe. But Cas was long gone. Dean caught a glimpse of Famine consuming every demonic soul in the room as the angel continued to ravage his body with his lips.

Dean was aware that it was over when Cas stopped kissing him to pause in the process of lifting his bloody shirt up and gasped. Dean looked up from Cas' face to see Famine slumped over in his chair and Sam holding his hand to his face as blood dripped from his nose. He was juiced up on demon blood, but he was otherwise okay. _My life must be really fucked up if I consider this okay, _Dean thought.

Dean turned back to his angel, whose hands had healed his wounds and stopped gripping his torso like it was a lifesaver. Cas' cheeks were a shameful red and his blue eyes were cast down to the floor beneath him. Even though Cas wasn't looking him in the eye, Dean knew what he was thinking.

"Cas," he started to say, "It's not your-"


	8. Chapter 7: Home

"Papa!" Mary shrieked with joy, flying toward her other father standing by the front door. "You're home!"

"Mary, how many times do I have to tell you not to fly in the house? You know Daddy doesn't like it," Cas scolded, setting the young girl down the floor.

"Don't play bad cop with me, you know you love it," Mary said sweetly.

"Yes, I do," Cas said with a smile, "But that doesn't mean you can ignore what I tell you to do. I tell you to do certain things for a reason. Look at Bobby - you don't see him flying everywhere."

"That's 'cause I can't fly Pop," Bobby John grumbled.

"Yeah, you're a natural at following that rule Bobby J," Mary said, manifesting a lollipop the size of her head, in her hands with a small snap of her fingers.

"Shut up, jerk," Bobby retaliated.

"Whatever b-"

"Well, if it weren't for the fact that you never met him Mary, I'd say that Uncle Gabe left quite an imprint on you," Sam said, walking through the front door behind Cas.

"Uncle Sammy!" The Winchester kids shouted in a gleeful unison.

"Well, I think that's the end of my story then," Dean abruptly said from his chair, the children having forgotten about him and the tale they were so eager to hear.

"No! You were just at the good part! You can't be finished yet!" Bobby whined.

"Yeah! We'll listen!" Mary said. "I wanna know if the cupid comes back! Him hugging Uncle Sammy was hilarious!"

Sam Winchester turned fifty shades of pink and took a seat. He was already dreading to hear this story. Castiel on the other hand, loved this story and took a seat beside his husband, eager to hear more.

"Okay, okay, I'll finish it," Dean said. "Oh and as much as that cupid was a pain in the a-" Dean stopped to look at Cas' disapproving face then continued.

"- A pain in the butt, he was hilarious." Sam gave him a bitchface from across the room. "But he didn't show up again though."

"Hey Uncle Sammy, when Daddy finishes telling us this story, can you tell us about Uncle Gabe? Pleeeaaase?" Mary asked. She had never gotten to meet her famous angelic uncle.

"Um, sure," Sam said with a smile tainted with a sadness that only Dean and Cas would understand. "When he comes back from his mission."

"When's he coming back?" Mary asked.

"How about you continue your story Dean," Cas said quickly, preventing Sam from having to answer any more questions from the well meaning, curious girl.

"Okay then," Dean said, clearing his throat. He smiled at his small family. "Well, you already know how it ends…"


	9. Epilogue? All Good Things Come to an End

Dean's emotional dam cracked right in the center when Sammy started to apologize. The younger Winchester could be heard sobbing and begging for forgiveness throughout the scrap yard as he detoxed in Bobby's panic room. Among the names screeched were Ellen, Ash, Jo, Jess, Mom, Cas, Bobby - _even Dad._

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Sam rambled. "Jess? Jessica? Jess?"

"Remember how we met, Jess?" Sam said, growing a bit delusional. "At Brady's stupid Halloween party? He was so wasted… Do you remember, Jess? I was dressed up as Han Solo and you were Princess Leia. Brady convinced me to dance with you, even though I sucked at dancing. I kept stepping on your feet and I was so embarrassed. But I guess you liked my personality more than my dancing skills 'cause you are…. You were so much to me…"

Sam huffed out a weak attempt at a laugh that quickly turned into a fit of coughing. "You were so beautiful."

Dean stomped outside with a pack of beer in hand when Sammy's blissful reminiscing subsided and he painfully screamed his name and cursed him to hell. He walked across the scrap yard and settled down on the hood of his Baby. He turned his head up to look at the stars and tried to clear his mind as tears threatened to sting his eyes.

"Please," he whispered. "I can't… I need some help… Please?" Dean didn't know what he was doing. He wasn't the religious type. _God is MIA, so who the fuck am I praying to that actually gives a shit?_

Suddenly, a sense of warmth came over him as he felt a shift in the air. The feeling overwhelmed him. It was if a feeling of sympathy - _no_ - _empathy_ or _understanding_ was wrapping around him life a pair of delicate wings. He put his beer down and looked around the yard, not seeing anything out of the ordinary, which actually confirmed his suspicions.

"Cas, I know you're there. There's no point in hiding," Dean said, facing the night sky.

It took a minute or two, but eventually, Dean heard the flutter of wings. He turned his head to see the angel sitting beside him, likewise staring at the stars. He didn't even react to the sudden appearance this time. _I think I'm getting used to it._

"How were you aware it was me?" Cas asked quietly, still not turning to face him, nor look him in the eyes.

"I got a feeling," He said, picking up a bottle of beer from the pack he had brought.

"Yes Dean, speaking of feelings-"

"I meant what I said."

"You did?" Cas said, shock obviously evident in his usually monotonous voice.

"Yup. Even got Sammy's blessing- said we were good for each other."

"Really?" Cas said, turning his head to meet his patient gaze. And_ how could he resist those baby blues?_

"Yeah, Cas. I need you," Dean said, with a sad smile. He meant it, but… _Here I am trying to make sparks fly with an angel while my brother's fighting off his demon blood. It just ain't right._ Dean turned his head again as the tears finally managed to flow. _It's too freaking much. There's too many people close to me. There's too many I can lose._

"It will get better, Dean," Cas said, taking his hand with a gentle but sturdy grip, with a strength that he could tell was only a fraction of what his angel could muster. _(Later on he admits that this turned him on a bit. He also felt like a giddy, giggling schoolgirl at the thought of Cas being his angel.)_

"I don't know if we'll all make it through this," Dean said, squeezing his companion's hand in return, again throwing away his 'no chick flick moment' rule for now. "Gabriel already kicked the bucket and he was a freaking archangel! What are our chances, Cas?"

"I have faith in you Dean," Cas replied, his intense stare almost making him believe his words. _It almost did._ The look Cas was giving him, _like he was the freaking Sun and the earth revolved around him, like he had unhindered confidence about what he was talking about_ - terrified him. Cas' unwavering stare dared him to believe differently. _(Like Dean would say later on, it's best just to agree with Cas. For your sake though. He almost never agrees with Cas. It's one of the reasons he loves him)._

"But is it worth fighting for? Is it worth the losses?" He asked.

"I think you of all people Dean, would have the proper motivation to keep fighting. Fight for your world, fight for humanity, fight for free will, fight for your brother."

"You too," he heard himself say. "As long as you're here, I'll fight for you too." _I can at least promise you that._

"I would never abandon your side, Dean Winchester," Cas replied with a small smile. Cas' loyalty had never ceased to amaze Dean, but it still felt like a punch in the gut. _Dammit Cas, that might hurt you one day._

"Are we going to be alright, Dean?" Cas asked uncertainly when Dean didn't reply.

"Well, if you're talking about me, then hell no. I don't think I'll ever be okay. Like I said, I'm like some chewed up gum on the sole of your shoe. I'm pretty fucked up, man." He took a sip of his beer and continued.

"But then again, we're all a little mad- even you. I guess that's why we're perfect for each other, don't 'ya think? Well, besides the fact that we're a match made in Heaven." Dean smiled.

"But if you're talking about us… I think we're going to be okay. Better than okay, actually," he said with a wink.

Cas laid against the Impala's hood, still holding Dean's callused fingers in his unnaturally polished ones. "I love you, Dean."

"You told me," he teased. Cas blushed.

"Yes, but it doesn't make it any less true," Cas replied, snatching the beer from Dean's hands at a supernatural speed, chugging it down in one giant gulp with a hint of amusement in his eyes. _It would take a whole bar full of those to make him drunk. He's perfect, _Dean thought.

Hand holding would eventually lead to lingering hugs as the relationship rapidly progressed. Hugs lead to "manly" cuddling from Dean until kissing was the norm between the two. Neither would ever tire of the others' company as the kisses changed from desperate and needy to passionate and full of love. Their profound bond ended up being Dean's only long term relationship, and he couldn't have been happier. _(It's 'cause we're soul mates, duh.)_ It was also often the butt of most of Sam's jokes until he received a hubby of his own. _(Sometimes I wish that he just stuck to teasing us)_. Love made the Righteous Man and the Angel of the Lord fall together in flames, simultaneously raising the hunter, Dean, and the archangel, Castiel, like a phoenix from the ashes. _(What? Did you really think we could completely settle down? My angel got a promotion! No more apocalypses either!)_

Dean Winchester was a rational person. Was it rational that he punched a cupid in the face? Yes, he thinks so, and it hurt like a **bitch**. But isn't that what love usually feels like?

Cas doesn't agree. On what, he doesn't know. But considering that they've been together for twenty years, five months, and (_according to Cas_), two weeks and one day, he thinks his "rational" decision was a good one.


End file.
